


gentle domesticity (or: try not to choke on your feelings at breakfast)

by fizzyguy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst if you look really hard, Breakfast, Domesticity, Feelings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pancakes, Romance, Self-Indulgent, completely ignoring a japanese breakfast, i dont really know how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzyguy/pseuds/fizzyguy
Summary: a kitchen is a place stained with feelings and memories.you get up first to make breakfast every morning.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	gentle domesticity (or: try not to choke on your feelings at breakfast)

Mornings are always quiet, a near silence that would send chills down spines if it wasn’t brimming with comfort and something else. When you get up, the sun is just peaking over the horizon, and when you open the window a hazy glow encompasses the kitchen. 

The sound of gentle running water fills the room as you fill the kettle, and the floorboards creak as you move to the stove to press it gently on one of the burners. You move across the kitchen floor, and start getting ready to make breakfast.

It feels like both nothing and everything.

You know he’s awake as soon as you move to get up, but he doesn’t make a single move. He listens and does nothing else. He lays in bed and hears you in the kitchen and breathes and fears that if he got up you wouldn’t actually be there, but at the same time he’s choking on the feelings that wreak havoc on him when you do something as simple as make breakfast every morning. 

You breathe slowly, and try not to think about it. It is nothing and everything all at once. Your hands are filled with care, gently pressing it into everything you make, everything you touch. Every morning after too long and not long enough, Kakashi quietly pads down the hallway into the kitchen and sits at one of the two stools at the kitchen bench.

He watches your hands as you flip a pancake, as you pour tea, as you twirl honey out of its pot. He watches your hands as you reach for him. He presses his cheek into the one on his face, finally closing his eyes as your thumb smooths along his sensitive cheek.

When you pull away its with feeling, chests tightening and gentle smiles loosening. You turn and click off the stove, and then pile a few pancakes onto each plate. You set one in front of him with a clink and then his eyes pull yours to his, and his gaze dares you to look away as he slowly pulls his mask down from his face. You don’t breathe. You don’t blink.

You never look away. He never wants you to.

You smile quietly as his gaze lowers and starts to dig in. when you walk around him you brush your hand along his shoulders and they relax under your fingertips. 

He eats slowly, slowly, holding the food on his taste buds for as log as he can. Forcing the feeling you put in it down his esophagus instead of ignoring it. As you sit down next to him, and take a mouthful of tea, he has barely made a dent in the small stack of pancakes in front of him. As you move to eat your own, you breathe out, and try not to choke on the feelings that fill your chest and push against your ribs.

You pretend you don’t see the tears falling down his face. 

Mornings are always quiet. Hazy light feels like a thick blanket. And a kitchen with two never feels more full.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i have a lot of feelings about kitchens and breakfast and being domestic and naruto characters, for some reason. i think writing this just made it worse instead of better, even though its short.
> 
> hope you enjoy ^.^  
> lots of love <3


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